


Misguided Ghosts

by umbrllaacademy



Category: The Umbrella Academy
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2020-01-11 03:37:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 12,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18422025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/umbrllaacademy/pseuds/umbrllaacademy
Summary: Dave and Klaus find an abandoned baby during the Vietnam War, and the rest is history.





	1. I

Klaus, wake up!” Klaus felt a hand shaking his shoulder. He squinted, his eyes adjusting slowly to the dim lamplight of the tent. He surveyed the room around him with blurry vision.The other soldiers, those who remained, lay in their bunks, fast asleep. Yep. Still in ‘68. Klaus groaned and propped himself up on his elbow. 

“Whah,” he muttered.  
“Come on,” urged the voice at his bedside. “If we hurry, we can see it in time.” 

Klaus’ eyes shot open with sudden realization, and their bleariness was replaced with a mischievous glimmer. He focused on the broadly smiling man in front of him. He studied the flaxen hair, cut short for war; the forehead, young but already creased with worry-lines; the blue eyes which held as much joy as his own, and certainly as much as anyone could have in a place like this. Klaus shot up.  
“Let’s go,” he whispered.

It was on rare occasions that Klaus and Dave had time to enjoy the beauty of the country they fought in—Vietnam was, after all, quite beautiful—but today was one of those occasions. The pair of soldiers stumbled through the dark, hands clasped together in the dim twilight, until they found their destination. They sat on the dewy ground beneath their favorite orange tree, which was presently silhouetted by the moon. Sometimes, they would study the tangling branches, climb up and pick the fruit, and count the leaves. But this morning, they were content with simply sitting beneath it. 

“It’s supposed to happen soon,” whispered Dave.  
“How do you know? How do you even know what time it is?”  
“I read it in yesterday’s paper.”  
“Bah. I bet those guys just guess half the time.” 

Dave looked at Klaus with his trademark “you’re-an-idiot-but-I-adore-you” look and wrapped his arm around him, ruffling his hair. Klaus leaned into Dave’s shoulder, and together, they watched the sky turn purple, then pink, and then gold.


	2. II

Klaus could never get used to the screams. The gunshots weren’t the problem; he had heard about a million gunshots in his youth. His dad had actually played records of gunshots on loop to desensitize the Academy. But it was always the screams that got him. Maybe it was because of the ghosts— he could see the dead ones, hovering about their corpses, trying to find their families.

But the screams stayed in his ears, rang there like twisted bells. War was one hell of a drug, and it was one he never wanted to try again.   
The mission was fairly simple, all told: go into the village. Destroy it. Leave. It still killed Klaus, the screams. He always wondered if Dave minded then as much as he did. 

Among the ringing gunfire and the shouts of “GRENADE!” and the explosions, Klaus burst into a hut, gun drawn. He surveyed the small room: a wood-fire stove stood still burning, releasing smoke out of a makeshift chimney. A slab of meat laid out on a wooden plank. A woven blanket in the corner with a small pillow on it. A woman laying dead on the floor, her arm outstretched and blood still seeping from her chest. Klaus recoiled. One would think that after all these years, after all he’d seen, death wouldn’t make him squeamish.

Her eyes were still open, and her mouth stayed in an aggravated “O” as if she had been screaming. She was stuck in a perpetual state of horror, pain, and anger. But more importantly, she looked like she had something to defend. Klaus had learned to recognize that look. A mother’s look. He felt sick to his stomach.

He inched over toward the blanket, praying that no one was underneath. The blanket wriggled. No. God, no. Then, the blanket began to cry. Klaus slowly rested his gun on the packed dirt floor, reaching to uncover the squirming body. 

When the light hit her eyes, the baby began to scream. She couldn’t have been much older than 8 months, with brown olive-toned skin and a patch of black hair atop her head. 

“Oh,” Klaus whispered. The screaming killed him. He took the baby up in his arms. He’d heard somewhere that you were supposed to support the head, so he cradled her head in his arms, rocking her gently back and forth. Slowly but surely, she ceased her wailing. 

“Well, hi there,” Klaus said as the baby smiled up at him. He now sat cross-legged on the floor, rocking her. He could have sat there forever, just this baby and him, and they could have ignored the raging war outside. Except...

“Klaus? Klaus, we have to—“ Dave ran into the hut, and the baby began to screech again.   
“Shhhh... it’s ok,” Klaus soothed her. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Dave’s eyes widened at the sight of his boyfriend and barrack-mate on the floor with a baby. Klaus gestured to the mother with his head as he continued to rock her. 

“I found her under this blanket,” he whispered, “She started crying and... you know how I... Dave, we can’t just leave her here.”   
“We can’t bring an infant back to camp, Klaus. How would we take care of her?”

“But she...” Klaus protested, “She’s all alone. She needs someone.” Those puppy eyes. Dave had no idea where Klaus had learned them, but they were impossible to resist. This time, though, they were different. They contained some sincere pain from some unnamable damage that stabbed at Dave’s heart.   
“Klaus, we can’t—“  
“Please.” 

Dave never considered himself a particularly smart man— he never did make it to college to avoid the draft— but he knew how to read people. He saw the tears welling up in Klaus’ eyes, heard the desperation with which he spoke, and he felt his pain. Klaus had never wanted to talk about his childhood, but he had always seemed connected to the Vietnamese children they encountered. All he wanted was to help this child... what was so wrong or un-American about that? 

Dave sighed. “Ok,” he said, kneeling down. “But we have to keep her hidden. Our commanding officers can NOT find out about this.” 

Klaus smiled up at Dave, and suddenly all of Dave’s tension disappeared. “Thank you,” he whispered.


	3. III

Dave hid the baby underneath his flak jacket and his shirt, supporting her feet with the butt of his gun. Klaus had begged to hold her, but he was too thin—he would be found out immediately for having a strange lump protruding from his stomach. Besides, he’d insisted on cropping all of his military-issued t-shirts, so she wouldn’t have fit anyway. After nightfall, Dave snuck some food from the mess hall and sat beneath the orange tree with the baby, waiting for Klaus. 

The baby had taken quite a liking to Dave; it seemed as though she understood that he was trying to help her, and she hadn’t made a peep on the hike back to camp. Now, as they sat between the roots of the tree, she reached up towards the branches, grasping at the flowers. “Do you like that?” Dave smiled down at the infant in his lap. “Do you like the blossoms?”. He stood up, plucking one out of the tree and presenting it to her. She immediately put a petal in her mouth. “Do you like oranges?” She giggled. “Well, one day, we’ll let you try them. Once you have teeth.”   
Klaus came running down the hill, checking behind him to make sure no one was following him. He collapsed beside Dave, giving him a peck on the cheek before moving his attention to the baby. 

“Christ,” he sighed, “How are we supposed to take care of her? How do we feed her? How do we get diapers for her? What happens when we’re fighting? What should we even name her?” 

“It’s going to be ok,” responded Dave. Somehow, even though he knew nothing of the future, he was sure it would be. 

“That doesn’t answer any of my questions!” Klaus exclaimed, throwing his hands up. “I’m so sorry, Dave. I should have never asked you to bring her back here. We should have just left her, we should have—“. Dave looked at the baby again; she was asleep now, murmuring peacefully. He leaned into Klaus, pressing his lips to his. “You need to learn to shut up sometimes, you know that?” 

Klaus raised his eyebrows. “That’s what my brother Diego used to tell me all the time.”   
“I talked to the nurses in the medical ward. They said they’d take care of her while we’re in the field, give her all the food and water she needs, and diapers too. And,” said Dave, glancing down again at the sleeping child, “I think her name should be Cam.” 

“Like Cameron? Camille?”   
“No, like the word for orange.” Dave looked skyward at the branches of the orange tree. Klaus followed his gaze.   
“I love that,” he said. Then after a pause: “I love you.”   
“I love you too,” whispered Dave.  
“Should we get married? Y’know, so Cam can have a happy home?”   
Dave scoffed. “We can barely serve in the army, let alone get married. Are you kidding? It’ll never be legal.”   
Klaus began to say something, then thought better of it. “Oh, yeah,” he said shortly.   
“Anyways,” pushed Dave, trying to anchor Klaus back to reality, “Cam comes first from now on.”  
“Right,” Klaus shook off his daze. “Cam comes first.”


	4. IV

Klaus took his tray of rations and began his daily routine of attempting to sneak out of the mess hall unnoticed. It had been 3 months since they had found Cam, so Klaus had become well-versed in dodging questions and ducking out of the way of over-talkative soldiers. The chatty ones were always new; the ones who were broken in were far too exhausted to ask any questions. 

Klaus tried to steer away from fresh faces, swerving and dodging soldiers like a pro football player. There had been many times when he was stopped and asked where he was going, to which he always replied that he didn’t feel well and so he was going to give his rations to a friend back at the tent. An over-justification perhaps, but it had worked thus far. 

Today, he was desperate to see his family; he’d had a grueling day and had been thinking of Dave and Cam’s smiles to pull him through. All he had to do was get down the hill, and then he was home free. All he had to do was get down the hill. All he had to do... Klaus hit a wall and staggered backwards. As he stumbled backwards, he realized that what he had run into was breathing. Damn it. 

“What are you doing, faggot?” Damn it.  
Klaus kept his eyes on the ground. The soldier shoved him backwards.  
“With all that time you spend on your eye makeup, you’d think you would at least use your fuckin’ eyes,” said the wall. “What are you, some kind of sissy? What kind of man wears makeup?”  
“Leave me alone,” said Klaus.  
“Oh, the fag thinks he’s tough stuff. So who’s your boyfriend? I bet he’s a pathetic sissy like you.” 

Klaus’ hand curled into a fist, and then, without his control, it was moving at full force, and then it connected with the wall’s mouth, and then there was blood on his hand. Klaus’ other fist was swinging too, and his feet were kicking. His brain was on autopilot, and all he knew was that he had to protect. Protect his honor, protect his dignity, protect his country, protect the world, protect his brother _(oh god, I couldn’t protect him)_ , protect his boyfriend, protect his daughter. Protect, protect, protect. _Cam Comes First._

Someone pulled him off of the wall. Tears were streaming down his face, forming pale gray streaks against his skin. The wall was surrounded by other soldiers, attempting to pull him to his feet and carry him to the medical ward. The wall finally stood, propped up by four of his comrades. He glared at Klaus and hobbled away, spitting blood onto the ground as he went. 

Klaus knew all too well how punishment worked. He grabbed his tray off the floor and ran down the hill before anyone could catch him. 

Klaus ran and thought of the people he loved. For the past three months, all he and Dave could think about was Cam. Her health, her safety, was she hungry, was she tired, does she need to be changed. Cam Comes First. Not bad for an orphan and an adoptee, Dave had said. If only Klaus could tell him. 

Dave was bouncing Cam on his knee under the orange tree. Klaus breathed a sigh of relief. Seeing them was better than any drug, he thought. The two turned to look at Klaus, and their smiles fell. Cam began to cry, and Dave scooped her up, walking over to Klaus. 

“What happened?” Dave reached out to touch the black eye forming on Klaus’ face. Klaus winced.  
“Some guy tried to pick a fight. Don’t worry about it.” His green eyes remained on the ground.  
Dave put Cam down, and she happily sat in the grass. He cupped Klaus’ face with his hands.

“Hey,” he said.  
Klaus looked up, into those brown eyes. “Hey.”  
“This war is hard on everyone,” Dave said, “And it’s never going to be easy for us. You know that.”  
“Yeah.”  
Cam grabbed hold of Klaus’ pants with a tiny fist.  
“But you’ll always have us, ok? You’ll always have me, and you’ll always have her.” Dave gestured down to the tiny girl, who Klaus picked up and kissed on the forehead.  
“Yeah, you’re right.”  
“So it doesn’t matter what anyone else says about us, ok? We’ll always be here for each other.”  
Dave wrapped his arms around Klaus and Cam, and for just one moment, everything was really, truly ok.


	5. V

Klaus squinted in the pale sunlight. He stood in a room with stained glass windows and mahogany paneling lining the walls. In front of him, there was a desk with an ornate fringed lamp; papers and folders were strewn across the desk, spilling onto the floor. A brown leather chair with mahogany arms and tufted with gold buttons sat uninhabited behind the desk. Klaus knew this room. Where did he know it from? 

He studied the mantle behind the chair, which supported an array of random paraphernalia: a goblet, a small radio, and a stuffed vulture on a branch. Klaus knew this room. He knew it. He walked out of the room with his feet barely touching the ground, down the stairs, down the hall. He came to another room, smaller than the first, with scribbles and drawings covering the walls. He knew this one immediately: it was his bedroom. He ambled about, picking up his old notebooks and keepsakes, tracing the etchings on the wall with his fingers. He plopped down on the bed, feeling something small and uncomfortable beneath him. He grabbed it and brought it to his eyes to find that it was a candle. The wick was burnt charcoal-black and the gray wax had solidified in globs along the sides. Klaus gripped it tight, standing up again. 

He pulled back the covers of his bed to reveal a little girl with brown skin and a patch of black hair, motionless, arm outstretched and mouth shaped in an aggravated “O”. Klaus shook her, but to no avail. He wailed in agony, tears were stinging his eyes, he was shaking her and screaming, _the screams killed him_ , screaming, screaming. 

Klaus woke to a piercing whistling sound from outside. It was growing louder, shrieking through the humid midnight air. _INCOMING!_  
He had no time to reflect on his dream, and even if he had, he wouldn’t have wanted to. Klaus threw on his flak jacket, his helmet, and his boots, grabbed his gun, and ran. He ran toward a rice paddy, which looked like a big gray candle set ablaze, like a small sun. In the melee, Dave grabbed onto Klaus’ arm and they ran together.  
“Is she ok?” Klaus shouted over the gunfire.  
“Yeah,” shouted Dave. “She’s with the nurses. She’ll be fine.”  
Klaus sucked in a breath. “Thank god.”  
_Cam Comes First._  
Klaus and Dave began to fire. They fired at anyone not wearing the U.S. flag, because that was what they were taught to do. Soldiers collapsed on all sides, and the muddy battlefield glowed red with bombs and fire and blood. Klaus and Dave pushed forward, towards the enemy line.  
_INCOMING!_  
Klaus felt mud splash his face, his hands, his stomach. He crawled forward, propping up his gun on a wall of sandbags. Dave propped up his gun beside Klaus’. They fired. They fired for thirty seconds or thirty minutes or thirty years. They fired forever. This war didn’t care how long they fired for. They fired forever.  
“I have to reload!” Dave’s voice rose over the screaming. _The screaming always killed him._  
“Stay low!” Klaus yelled, but Dave had already propped himself up on the sandbags, clicking a fresh magazine into place. All at once, a flurry of bullets whizzed by their heads. Dave sunk back down to crawling position, his gun resting on the sandbags, his brown eyes wide open.  
“Christ on a cracker, that was a close one, huh Dave?” 

••• 

The battle was over, but Klaus still had the blood on his hands. He was still trying to stop the bleeding _MEDIC_ he was still trying to save _NO NO NO_ he was still trying to protect _GODDAMN IT I NEED A MEDIC_ he was still trying because he was the only one left _always_ he was the only one _always have_ why couldn’t it just have been him _NO_ why couldn’t it just have _always have us_. 

He sat beneath the orange tree _no, like orange_ and stared at the blood on his hands _DAVE_. He couldn’t stop replaying the scene in his head _goddamnit_ and his mind couldn’t stop racing _goddamnit_ and his heart wouldn’t stop beating _stay with me_ but Dave’s had. Why couldn’t it have just been him? Why couldn’t it have just? Why? 

Klaus knew only one thing: he couldn’t stay. He had no reason to anymore. No reason to, except...  
Klaus washed the blood from his hands. He marched down to the medical ward. No, he didn’t march, because his feet wouldn’t touch the ground. The nurses were crying. Cam was crying. Suddenly, he was crying. He took Cam, and he marched back to the tent. _Comes first_. He slid out the black patent-leather briefcase from beneath his bed. _Cam comes first_ he unlatched the silver buckles. _No reason except_. And in a flash of blue light _always_ he was gone.


	6. VI

Klaus’ glassy eyes bore through the advertisement on the bus. He wanted to slap the smile off the face of the woman who was trying to convince him to open an account at Central Bank. On his lap sat the briefcase, the object of his utmost abhorrence, and Cam, the object of his adoration. She was the only good thing that came out of that damn place. _If only_. 

Cam Comes First. Cam Comes First. Cam Comes _goddamnit I need a medic_ Cam Comes _no no no please_.  
Klaus got off of the bus, cradling his daughter in one arm and holding the briefcase in the other. _no no no medic_. He threw the case at the cobblestone with all the force he had left in his body, smashing it again and again and again and again and Cam started crying and Klaus started crying and _boom_ the briefcase was engulfed by a ball of fire and Klaus collapsed to the pavement with his daughter in his arms and they cried together, their tears mixing in a puddle on the ground. 

Klaus couldn’t see, and he couldn’t breathe, and he couldn’t feel anything but the twisting, burning agony in his chest and the baby in his arms. How could he give her a good life here, just the two of them? How was he supposed to do this alone? _She’s all alone_. Now it was his turn. 

He limped back to the Academy. Passers by with flushed faces full of life stared at him with pity and concern and disgust, the man with tears running down his cheeks, hobbling through the streets with a child in his arms, wearing an army vest and dog tags. The dog tags: the one thing Klaus had salvaged. As they carted his body away, Klaus has clung to him, except it wasn’t him anymore. That pale skin, the cold, limp body, the glazed-over blue eyes. That wasn’t his Dave. But he’d taken them anyway, the dog tags. He wore them now around his neck like his own personal albatross. 

After 10 minutes or 10 months or 10 years or however long it was, he arrived at the iron-clad gates of the Academy. Home. He entered through the massive wood doors, partially hiding Cam under his vest, but he had nothing to worry about; nobody would notice him, not even Pogo. Klaus could’ve bet everything that no one had even realized that he was gone for... how long had it been? Regardless, he had more important things to take care of. 

His whole body itched as if a swarm of spiders was crawling across his skin, and he had a pounding headache. Withdrawal? No, he’d been through withdrawal before, and it wasn’t half as bad as this. He traipsed upstairs. Cam needed a bath, so he filled the tub a tiny bit and washed her, his brain still on autopilot. She giggled. Klaus couldn’t even crack a smile. How was he supposed to take care of her?

He wrapped her in an old t-shirt—he would go buy diapers tomorrow— placed Cam down on his bed, and once she was asleep, took his own bath. Images of Dave swirled through his brain, the sounds of the battlefield roaring in his ears. The dried blood on his body, both his own and Dave’s, formed a gory soup of putrefaction and death in the tub. He escaped the bathroom, dripping bloody water across the hardwood floor. Good thing Dad wasn’t here to yell at him anymore. 

He sat down on the bed, observing Cam’s gentle, peaceful breathing. The only good thing. Did she know that she had lost two parents in 4 months? How would Klaus tell her once she grew up? How was he supposed to do this alone? 

“You’re back.” Klaus instinctively pulled the blanket over Cam. Ben stood in the doorway wide-eyed.  
“Oh,” he said nonchalantly, “Yeah. Hi.”  
“I was so worried about you!” exclaimed Ben. “Suddenly you just disappeared, and I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t talk to anyone, so I just kinda... waited here,” he trailed off, sensing Klaus’ pain.  
“Well, I’m back,” Klaus said, fumbling with his bedcovers.  
“Where were you? What’s going on—what’s under the blanket?”  
“I... uh... it’s a long story.”  
“I have all the time in the world.”  
Klaus sighed, pulling the covers back and revealing Cam once again. Ben gasped and rushed toward the bed. Klaus had never seen a ghost move that quickly.  
“Who is this? Klaus, did you steal a baby?”  
“No! Do you really think that I would—no, this... this is my daughter.”  
“Stop messing around. I might be dead, but I’m not a moron.”  
“I’m not messing around! I went back to the Vietnam war, and I was fighting, and she was there and her mom had died and I just... I just...”  
Klaus burst into tears again.  
Ben sat next to him on the bed and tried to put his hand on his shoulder. It passed right through him.  
“Hey,” Ben said, “it’s going to be ok. Just start at the beginning.”  
So he did.


	7. VII

Ben stared at Klaus incredulously, his mouth agape.

“I... God, Klaus, I’m so sorry.”   
Klaus raised his teary eyes to look at his brother. He rubbed his red, puffy eyelids.   
“It’s not your fault,” he sniffled.  
“But if I could have been there with you, if I could have—“  
“Well you weren’t, okay?” Klaus stood up, facing the door. “Don’t blame yourself. It’s not your fault. It’s mine.”   
“How is any of this your fault?”  
“I was the one who opened the briefcase! I was the one who wanted to take Cam! This is all on me... it’s all...” Klaus collapsed to the ground, his body wracked by sobs again. All Ben could do was sit on the bed and watch. He couldn’t bear to see his brother like this—the only one of his siblings who ever really cared for him—but he had no power to change things. _If only_ , he thought. 

“Klaus, you know that there’s only so much I can help you. But I need you to know that I’m always going to be here for you, ok? We’ll sort this out.”  
Klaus continued to sob on the floor. Ben stood, bending down to comfort his brother. His hand passed through his shoulder and into his chest. He sighed, sitting down on the ground next to Klaus.   
Suddenly, Klaus sat up, and in one swift motion, wrapped his arms around Ben. He hugged him—he _touched him_!—as his body shook in an attempt to rid itself of grief. Ben thought better of mentioning this to Klaus, as he knew it would only excite him more. Slowly, he moved his arms to reciprocate, hugging his brother for the first time in 13 years.

Klaus woke early the next morning to an unbearably high pitched wailing. Cam, whose red, squinting face resembled the cutest squashed tomato he’d ever seen, was its source. He quickly took her up in his arms and rocked her. 

“Cammie,” he cooed, “You can’t just go screaming like that. Your aunts and uncles will find out that you’re here, and then we’ll be in big trouble.” Cam’s crying persisted. Klaus sighed. Infants could never be reasoned with. He stood up, wrapping Cam’s makeshift onesie around her legs, and walked with heavy footfalls down the stairs to get breakfast. He placed Cam on the couch. God, he really needed to child-proof this house. How did old Reggie let his kids run around a place like this? 

In the kitchen, Grace was preparing breakfast for the household. She turned to face Klaus, her perfectly white smile illuminating the darkness of the foggy morning. “Good morning Klaus,” she said with her usual cheer. 

“Morning, mom.”   
“You’re up early.”  
Klaus’ eyes widened. He didn’t know that she monitored his sleeping patterns.   
“Uh... yeah. I didn’t eat last night, so I woke up hungry.”   
“Well, you’re in luck. Here, have some breakfast. It’s the most important meal of the day, you know.” On the table, Grace placed a stack the most beautifully round pancakes Klaus had ever seen. His mouth watered instantly. He’d forgotten how much he missed real food.   
“Hey, mom?”  
“Yes?”  
“Do we have any food that... oh, I don’t know... babies might eat? I have a real hankering for baby food this morning.”   
“We have applesauce.”  
“Perfect!” Klaus breathed a discrete sigh of relief. “Can I have some?”  
“What do we say, Klaus?”  
“ _Please?_ ” Klaus gave his best toothy grin. 

Grace nodded and moved elegantly about the kitchen. She handed him a bowl filled halfway with applesauce and a silver spoon tilted just so.   
“Great! Thanks, mom! Love you!” Klaus darted out of the kitchen, scooping up Cam and running up three stairs at a time to his bedroom.  
“I love you too!” she called after him. She paused for a second and returned to her pancake-making.

Klaus kicked aside a hookah pipe and a bong to set up a bare-bones high chair using books and pillows. “No more of those, I guess,” he mumbled to himself. He had to stay clean for her. He’d promised himself. He’d promised Dave.

He took the spoon in his hand, ignoring the rumbling of his own stomach, and held it out to Cam. She gratefully accepted it, a smile spreading across her round face. 

Klaus grinned down at her. The pain in his chest remained—he didn’t think it would ever go away— but it had subsided enough for him to focus on what was really important: his daughter. As he fed her, he thought of all the things she needed: a crib, real baby food, diapers, a stroller, clothes... he needed help, and there was only one person who could help him, and he was dead. Even if he could talk to Dave, even if he did become sober enough, Dave couldn’t be there with him. Klaus had to do this himself. He needed to be strong for Cam, if not for anyone else in the whole world. But for now, he needed help from someone alive, someone who he trusted, someone who would listen.

“Hey, Diego?” Klaus peeked into his brother’s room. Diego was sliding a knife into his belt and kicking the holding case underneath his bed.   
“What do you want, Klaus?” Diego turned to the door in exasperation. Yeah, that was about right, Klaus thought. 

“I... I need your help. But you can’t ask questions.”   
“Well that sounds like a stupid deal.” Diego dragged the flat part of the knife back and forth against his gloved palm.   
“Please,” Klaus begged, “This is really important.”  
“Last time you told me that, I got conned into giving you $50.”  
“Diego—“  
“Look, I’ve been through a lot in the past couple days, so maybe you’d have better luck if you bothered someone else for money.”  
“I don’t want money.”  
“Then what is it that you want?”  
“I told you. Help.”  
“Help with what? Give me more than one fucking word.”  
Klaus stepped into the doorway, revealing the baby in his arms. Diego’s eyebrows shot up.   
“Did you s—“  
“I did not steal this baby! Why does everyone think that?”  
“Where did you get her?”  
“Can we talk about this in the car?”  
“I knew you were going to ask me to drive you somewhere!”  
“That’s what you’re taking away from all of this? You know what? Never mind. You were the last person I should’ve gone to.” Klaus turned away, tears welling up in his eyes.   
“Klaus, wait.” Diego grabbed his shoulder. “I’ll take you where you need to go. Just tell me where.”

“This is so damn embarrassing,” Diego said through clenched teeth. His black eyes studied the tile floor of the department store.   
“You didn’t have to come in,” Klaus said. “I could’ve done this part by myself.”   
“No, I’m helping. I promised I would help, and I’m a man of my word.”   
A clerk in a blue vest walked up to them. “Do you gentlemen need any help today?” she asked. Before Klaus could respond, she bent down to look at Cam, who was sitting happily in the shopping cart.   
“Oh, she’s so cute! She must be so lucky to have such amazing, open-minded dads! You know, I was raised by two dads, and I love them both so much.”   
Diego’s face turned beet red. “I’m not—“ he began. Klaus instinctively put his hand on his brother’s forearm. _It’s okay_. That used to be his and Dave’s signal to let each other know to calm down. _Dave_. 

Diego pulled his arm back in disgust, and Klaus shook off the haze. “Thanks, but we’re okay,” he said quickly, herding Diego away before he threw anything at anybody. 

They walked into the clothing aisle.  
“I have never dated a man, and I don’t plan to,” Diego clarified to the baby shirts.   
“Mhm. What do you think of this?” Klaus held out a bubblegum-pink tulle dress to his brother.   
“I don’t know,” Diego said defensively.  
“I don’t think that’s her color.” Klaus said, placing the dress back on the rack.   
An hour later, they walked out of the store with arms full of baby supplies. Klaus buckled Cam into her brand new car seat, which would stay in Diego’s car, no matter how much he complained. 

“So are we ever going to talk about where her mom went?” Diego asked as they drove home.   
“I told you, she died in Vietnam.”  
“Vietnam. Like the Vietnam War.”  
“Right.”   
“And what made you think you’re qualified to raise a child?”  
“What makes you think you’re qualified to comment on my parenting?”  
Diego rolled his eyes. “You just took her! You know that’s illegal, right?”  
“No one was going to take care of her if we didn’t.”   
“We?”  
“Yeah, me and—“ Klaus choked on his name.   
“You and who? Did you have a girlfriend there?”  
The car started spinning. Klaus could feel a sob forming in his throat like a knot. He closed his eyes.  
“What was her name?”  
“ _His_ name was Dave.”   
Diego stared at Klaus, clearly waiting for an explanation.  
“We soldiered together in the A Shau Valley, on the Mountain of the Crouching Beast.”   
“Klaus—“  
“Don’t worry, I won’t cry and embarrass you in public.”   
“Klaus, I—“  
“He was killed in combat. He was the only one who I knew I could count on to help me with Cam, and now he’s gone.”  
Diego stopped the car in the alley on the side of the Academy. The brothers sat in silence.   
Diego looked at his feet, then looked back at Cam.   
“What does it mean?”  
“What?”  
“Cam. What does her name mean?”  
Klaus saw the orange tree where he and Dave used to sit. He saw the vivid Vietnamese sunrises, and he felt the cold air nip at his skin when they snuck out early to watch them. _The only good thing._  
“It means orange. Because that’s where we used to sit, he and I. Under an orange tree outside of camp.”  
“You and Dave.”  
“Yeah.”  
Now it was Klaus’ turn to stare at the ground.   
Diego unbuckled his seatbelt.   
“Klaus?” he asked, his voice uncharacteristically gentle.   
“Yeah?”  
“Can I hold her?”


	8. VIII

Diego sat on Klaus’ bed, cradling Cam in his arms. He looked down at her fondly. _His niece_. Sure, technically he had Allison’s daughter Claire, but he had never met her. He stuck his first finger out towards her, and her chubby, round hand grabbed it and squeezed it tight. Diego smiled. Maybe she wasn’t so bad. After all, she was pretty strong; one day he might even train her in hand-to-hand combat. 

In the corner, Klaus was struggling to set up Cam’s new crib. He clipped the last part into place with a grunt and a quiet “Shit!”, and then stood up. “Jesus,” he muttered, “You’d think they would make baby things a little easier to assemble. I mean they’re for _babies_ for chrissakes.” He wiped his hands on his leather pants and stretched his cramping back.  
“Hey, Diego...” he started, walking toward the bed. Diego didn’t even glance up at him.  
“Shhh,” he whispered back.

Klaus stood in awe as he observed his brother, the vigilante, the Kraken, the one who wore black leather and spandex with knives at his waist, grinning like an idiot over a 10-month-old. His jade eyes filled with a soft, teary bliss. Dave would have loved this, he thought.  
He sat on the bed next to the pair. Diego was holding a small stuffed lion over Cam, and she was grasping at it.  
“This is a lion,” Diego explained to the baby, “He’s the biggest and bravest of all the animals.” Cam gurgled up at him, giving him a four-toothed smile.  
“That’s right,” he exclaimed. “He says roar!”

“Nice work, Uncle Diego,” Klaus winked as he leaned back on the bed. Diego’s cheeks turned scarlet.  
“You know, for someone who hates kids, you sure are a natural at this.”  
“I don’t...” Diego stammered, clearly flustered.  
“It’s okay,” Klaus said, “I’ll keep your secret for you, tough guy.” He punched him gently on the shoulder. “If you keep helping me out with her.”  
Diego sighed, looking down at Cam. “I’m going to help. But only because you’re my brother and I made a promise to you.”  
“Sure,” Klaus grinned. “Whatever you say, Uncle D.”  
“Do _not_ call me that.”  
“Why not? I think ‘Diego’ might be a little hard for Cam to pronounce once she starts talking.”  
“You’re an idiot.” Diego got up and began to walk out of the room.  
“Uh, Diego?”  
“What?” Diego snapped.  
“Can I have my daughter back?”  
Diego looked down again at the tiny girl in his arms. “Oh. Yeah. Sorry.” 

That night, Klaus put Cam in her crib. She snuggled in as if she was completely used to it, even though she’d only ever slept in adult beds for her whole life. _We’re so lucky_. That was what Dave used to say when Cam would be quiet and gentle and not put up a fuss. _So lucky_. Klaus kissed her on the head and crawled into his own bed alone.

Suddenly, Klaus was in the motel room where he’d been tortured only a few days before. He instantaneously began to sweat and shiver as he looked upon the weak box-springs that vibrated when you inserted a coin, the round wooden table he’d slammed his head against to be rescued, the white slats of the closet doors that Hazel and Cha-Cha had stuffed him into, all bathed in pink-and-blue neon. He walked into the bathroom. There were bullet holes in the shower curtain, and the water still cascaded down from the rusty shower-head. 

When he walked back out into the main room, he saw a woman sitting on the bed closer to the window. She was facing away from him, staring through the curtains. It looked as though she was waiting for someone. 

“Excuse me?” Klaus said, leaning forward to get a look at her face. The woman turned to him. She had warm skin that was the color of the perfect cup of coffee, big brown eyes, and a sleek ponytail of chocolate hair. On her shirt, she wore a gilded police badge. Between her eyebrows, there was a hole surrounded by dried blood. 

“You’re the cop who saved me,” Klaus breathed. Detective Patch’s eyes widened.  
“You’re Diego’s brother.”  
“Yeah. Yeah, I am.”  
“How are you talking to me? Aren’t I dead?”  
“Well...” Klaus said, looking at the hideously patterned motel carpet, “Yeah. That’s why I’m able to talk to you. It’s just something I can do.”  
“Oh,” she said. She sounded disappointed in the way that one would if their friend blew them off for dinner.  
“I’m sorry.”  
“It’s... it’s okay, I guess. Part of the job. Just tell me that they found them.”  
“Found who?”  
“Those masked killers. I don’t want them hurting anyone else.” 

_Hazel and Cha-Cha_. Klaus’ stomach flipped at the thought of them.  
“Yeah, they caught them.” There was no reason to upset a dead person, Klaus thought as he lied through his teeth.  
“Good. And Diego didn’t hurt them, did he?”  
“N-no,” Klaus said. “He knew you wouldn’t want him to.”  
Patch breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank God.”  
The truth was that no one had any idea where Hazel and Cha-Cha had gone, but Diego had vowed to use any and every means necessary to kill them.  
“Can you give him a message from me?” Patch asked. Sincerity and altruism shone in her eyes; she was clearly beautiful inside and out. Klaus could understand why Diego had loved her.  
“Sure.”  
“Tell him to be kind. Tell him that’s all I’ve ever wanted from him.” She stood up, opened the door of the motel room, and walked away. 

Klaus woke in cold sweat, more tired now that he was when he’d gone to sleep. His pillow and sheets were soaked through with perspiration. His lip curled in disgust. He’d noticed that he always sweat profusely when he was speaking with the dead, except for Ben, of course. But he needed to do something else now, as if his life wasn’t complicated enough already. He needed to go give Diego a message.


	9. IV

Klaus clutched his head as he sat up, hoping the information he was processing wouldn’t spill out of his ears. Cam slept soundly in her crib, her fists curled into tight balls as her chest rose and fell. Klaus glanced at the clock to find it was only 4:08 in the morning. He knew he wasn’t going back to sleep, so there was no use in trying. He might as well just plan what he was going to say to Diego, because that was going to consume his every thought until the time came to actually say it. After all, it’s not every day that you tell your brother who’s dead-set on avenging the murder of his ex-girlfriend that you spoke to said murdered ex-girlfriend in your sleep, which was not something you knew you could do, by the way. 

Klaus had spoken to the dead dozens of times, but always while he was awake. The fact that he did it unconsciously and without trying meant something, although the jury was still out on whether or not that something was positive or negative. 

Aside from all of that, Klaus felt like complete and total shit. Ever since he’d come home, he had this sensation, like a swarm of bees had decided to build their hive in his rib cage; like a boa constrictor had wrapped itself around his trachea and was slowly squeezing the oxygen out of his lungs. It was magnified now, though; perhaps meeting Patch in his sleep exacerbated it. His heart raced, and his head throbbed, and he could only think of one thing: if only he had Dave here to help him. _If only_. 

Maybe if he could summon Detective Patch, he thought, he could summon Dave. He lay back down in his bed, trying desperately to fall asleep, but to no avail. He glanced at the clock. 4:56 am. Shit. Time seemed to be Klaus’ worst enemy of late; it crawled relentlessly forward, never giving him the chance to catch up and take a breath. 

Klaus felt the sudden urge to get out of the house, to escape into the park or the woods or the street or anywhere, anywhere but here. There were two fundamental problems with that, his left brain reasoned: it was 4 o’clock in the morning and he had a 10-month-old daughter to look after. He covered his eyes with his hands and stared at the tattoos on his palms. _Hello. Goodbye_. 

Dave used to trace them with his fingers when they would sit under the orange tree, before Cam, before everything. The first time they’d met—the first time they’d truly met, on the bus— Dave had inquired about them. _Hello_. Klaus honestly couldn’t remember when or where he’d gotten them. All he knew was that one morning he had woken up with saran wrap covering his hands, and the rest was history. The night before Dave had died was the last time he had touched those tattoos; they had been sitting under the tree with Cam and the millions of stars in the cobalt-blue sky and the weaving branches and the partially-ripe oranges and the wet grass and everything was perfect. Dave had been holding his left hand. _Goodbye_. 

Now would be a great time to get faded, Klaus thought. Maybe it would take some of the pain away. He craved that feeling of numbness, of escaping from reality, of building that wall between him and real life. But then he glanced has his sleeping daughter, and his resolve strengthened. No. He had to be clean for her. He’d made a promise to Dave, just like Diego had made that promise to him, and he had to stick to it or die trying. _Comes first_.

5:34 am. Klaus stared at the ceiling, thinking of what life would’ve been like if Dave hadn’t. He still couldn’t think the word— if Dave hadn’t. And his brain just stopped there. If he hadn’t.   
He’d often dreamt of bringing Dave to 2019. He’d imagined them getting married _It’ll never happen_ ; he would smile at the jubilant surprise on Dave’s face when he would announce that it was legal. He imagined them bringing Cam to the playground and talking to the other parents. _Always have us_. He imagined them dropping her off at her first day of school and crying into each other’s shoulders because their baby had grown up so fast. _Always us. Us. Us us us us us me. Me._ The memories came back in waves again, swirling about his head like spirits, taunting him, jeering at him. He rolled his knuckles into his eyes. _Hello Goodbye Always Never Us Me._

Klaus must have fallen asleep at some point, because he woke an hour and a half later to a crying Cam. He recalled hearing new parents complaining about how they never got any sleep, but his personal random screaming alarm clock didn’t bother him so much. Maybe it was because he rarely ever got sleep anyway. He stood, cradling her in his arms, telling her to _shhhhh, shhhhh_. 

His bedroom had come to look like a strange fusion of a smoke shop and a nursery, but Cam clearly didn’t mind. She ate her breakfast happily among the various drug paraphernalia. _So lucky._  
“One day,” Klaus told her in between airplane noises, “You’re going to have your own room. We’re going to have our own home. It’s going to be amazing, just like you.” Cam smeared an applesauce-covered palm across her forehead. 

There was one more challenge that Klaus had stumbled across on his quest to be a single dad: how to entertain an infant when only two other people know that she exists and also one is dead. There was only so much peek-a-boo that would satiate her, after all. Once Diego arrived, they would go on a walk, and then Klaus could tell him. That way, he could get this weight off of his chest and Cam could get some fresh air. 

Finally, at about noon, Diego showed up. Klaus hustled him out of the Academy, hushing him and clipping Cam into her stroller and pulling on a shirt and shoes all at the same time. They walked to the park, Klaus pushing Cam with great purpose and Diego trotting awkwardly after them. Finally, they slowed their pace. 

“What the hell was that?” Diego asked, trying to mask the fact that he was slightly out of breath.   
“I...I need to tell you something.”   
“And here we go.”  
“Diego! I’m serious. This is important.”  
“Let me guess. You dragged me all the way to the park to tell me that Cam said her first word yesterday! How cute.” Diego sneered as he said the last two words, picking up his pace again.   
“Diego!” Klaus raised his eyebrows and lowered his bottom lip ever so slightly, peering up at his brother. Goddamnit, Diego hated when Klaus did the puppy eyes. Dave must have really loved him to put up with that. Those eyes were so piercingly sad; Diego knew that they saw dead people, but he could tell they’d seen other things too— horrible, unspeakable things. 

“What?” he relented. Klaus resumed walking. Good thing it was cloudy today, he thought, so nobody would be out. As a general rule, the Hargreeves family did not do well in public spaces. 

“Last night,” he sighed, “I talked to your detective.” Diego stopped short.   
“You... Detective Patch? Eudora?” He licked his lips as if the speaking of her name had stung them.   
Klaus nodded solemnly. “She told me to tell you not to hurt Hazel and Cha-Cha. She wants them to be arrested by the police. She said she doesn’t want you to lay a finger on them.”  
A sound of strangled distress was the only thing that escaped Diego’s lips. He collapsed with a thud onto a bench beneath a willow tree. Klaus pulled Cam’s stroller around to the side of the bench, sitting down gently next to him. 

“She told me something else, too.” Klaus could hear the Ben in his mind telling him to shut up, shut up now, while he still could. Diego looked up at him expectantly.

“She said... she wants you to be kind. She said that’s all she ever wanted from you.”   
Diego clasped his hands behind his neck, staring at the grass. He sat quietly for longer than Klaus had ever seen him, except for at dinners when they were kids. 

“No,” he mumbled finally. “No, it must have been a dream. It must have been.” He looked up at Klaus again, rising to his feet. “You can’t talk to the dead when you’re sleeping, right? Only while you’re awake.”   
“This was real.”  
“No. No it wasn’t. Because if it were real, you would have been awake,” Diego protested.   
“I woke up sweating like I always do when I—“  
“No! People sweat in their sleep all the time! It was just a dream, Klaus!”   
“It wasn’t—“   
“It was!” Tears were visibly welling up in Diego’s eyes. “Because if it wasn’t, then you would have been awake. You would have been awake!”   
“I’m sorry, Diego. But I know this was real. I can feel it.”  
Diego sniffled, looking away. Klaus hated to see him like this, but he also felt frustration bubbling up inside him. 

“You know, we’re in the same boat here,” Klaus continued, resentment and grief mixing, blowing, forming a tornado in his chest. He approached Diego slowly. “We’ve both lost people we love. And it hurts,” he clutched the dog tags around his neck, “It hurts so bad that sometimes you just feel like... what’s the point, you know? And I feel responsible, and I know you do too. There’s nothing worse than feeling like it’s your fault. And it’s going to hurt every single day for the rest of our lives. But you know what? We need to focus on the things that matter more than us.” He gestured to Cam, who was now asleep in her stroller. “We need to focus on the things that come first.” 

Diego looked up at him; tears had begun streaming down his face, and his lips trembled.   
Klaus put a hand on his brother’s broad shoulder. _Hello_. “I’m here. I understand.”   
In the blink of an eye, Diego had embraced Klaus and was squeezing him tight—in public, no less. 

“Thank you,” Diego whispered in Klaus’ ear. He pulled away, brushing himself off as if he were wiping away the emotion and vulnerability he had just displayed. Klaus shot him a melancholy smile. They were going to get through this. He, Cam, and Diego were going to get through this _together_.


	10. X

Klaus and Diego took the scenic route home with Cam in Diego’s arms. She had begun to cry as they were leaving the park, and Diego had taken her up almost as quickly as he might have done for his own child. He’d glanced sidelong at Klaus with a sort of innocent, fake-ignorant look as if to say “What? This isn’t abnormal behavior for me at all.” Cam currently had a firm grip on his pinky finger and was cooing happily at her uncle. 

“Diego,” asked Klaus, “Would you mind keeping an eye on her for a little while? There’s something I need to do.”  
“You’re not going to go buy, are you?” Diego’s lip curled in disgust. “I thought you were off that shit, man.”  
“No! No, I’ve been clean for like a week. I just need you to watch her.”  
“Why don’t you tell me what you’re up to, and then I’ll say yes?”  
Klaus sighed. “I want to try to...” he choked again. The emotions had been running high today, and that always messed with his powers. Still, he felt like he could finally do it, now that he had a solid support system for the first time in his life. Now that he knew he wasn’t alone.

“I want to try... to see him.”  
Diego’s expression of perpetual irritation melted into concern. “Woah. Are you sure, Klaus? Aren’t you worried that it’ll just make things worse?”  
“Things are pretty bad to begin with.” Klaus looked at his daughter in his brother’s arms. “I need to tell him. I need to let him know she’s ok. I... I need to _see_ him again. Just one more time.”  
“Are you even strong enough? Today has been—“  
“Yeah. But I know I can do it. I just feel like I need to. I can’t explain it any more than that.” 

They arrived back at the Academy. The black iron gates swung open with an exhausted screech.  
“Okay,” Diego said, his voice tinged with apprehension, “I’ll take her for a little while. How long will you be?”  
“Actually,” Klaus said, “I think I need your help first.”  
Klaus led Diego up to the attic. He pulled up a chair—an old, weak, splintering wooden chair that they used to use to practice tying up criminals— and grabbed a bundle of rope.  
“Oh, no. No, no, no.” Diego lifted his hands, turning his back to Klaus.  
“The last time I was able to conjure the dead, I was tied up in that motel room.”  
“Klaus, this is insane! I’m not gonna tie you up like an animal or something!”  
“Please, Diego.” Klaus pleaded, “I need to see him.”  
“There must be some other way!”  
“Trust me, I’ve tried. This is the best way to do it.”  
Diego shook his head, turning back around to face his brother.  
“The things I do for you... If I see a boner, I’m out.” 

Diego bound Klaus’ entire upper body to the chair. The frayed rope pricked at his skin, and Diego’s occasional yanking squeezed the air out of his lungs. Diego dusted off his hands after he finished his quadruple-knot. “That good?” he asked.

“Perfect,” Klaus croaked, “Thank you.”  
Cam looked up at her father inquisitively from Diego’s arms, but made no noise as Diego stared him down. 

“I’m giving you two hours, you hear me? Two hours, and then I’m coming up here to get you.”  
Klaus nodded. Apparently satisfied with his work and his brother’s reaction, Diego left, walking back downstairs with Cam.

Klaus closed his eyes and tried to focus. Dave. Dave. Dave. He pictured his sparkling blue eyes, full of joie de vivre, even in the darkest, goriest times. His sandy brownish-blond hair; Klaus loved when Dave would forget to cut it because it became slightly curly when it was long. His sharp-as-a-knife jawline, his nose that curved up ever so slightly at the end, the rough stubble on his chin, his soft lips and pearly white teeth like you’d see in a dental ad— Klaus recalled every single detail as if he had just seen him yesterday. 

He opened his eyes. Across from him stood a young man who most certainly was not Dave. He wore a black leather jacket and a hoodie underneath. His black eyes were like polished onyx stones, still and unblinking, solid as rock. His shining black hair was meticulously brushed over to one side and gelled so that not one hair would fall out of place. His lips were pursed as if he were deep in thought about something he disliked. 

“Goddamn it, Ben!” Klaus exclaimed. Ben’s eyes widened, and he drew closer to Klaus.  
“Hello to you, too,” he said.  
“I was trying to summon Dave.”  
“Well, he’s not here right now. I am.”  
“Okay, so can you go get him or something?”  
“That’s not how it works. Besides, I don’t even know what he looks like, remember?”  
“Right,” Klaus exhaled forcefully.  
“Look, it’s not like i’m unhappy to see you, but I’m kinda waiting on Dave. So do you know when he’ll be here?”  
“No, Klaus. I’m dead, not clairvoyant.”  
“Sorry, sorry.”  
“It’s ok.” Ben folded his arms. “I can sit here and wait for him with you if you want.”  
“Yeah, that’d be nice, actually.”  
Ben sat down on the floor with one swift, elegant motion. He glanced around the barren attic.  
“What happened to all the stuff up here, dare I ask?”  
“I sold it.”  
Ben looked up at Klaus, his eyebrows raised. “Mhm. I figured.”  
“But I’m done with all that now. Cam needs me to be clean.” 

“I’m proud of you,” Ben said, his glassy, woeful black eyes staring straight through Klaus’. “You’ve grown up so much since you’ve had her. That baby saved your life. You know that, right?”  
Klaus glanced down at his tied-up legs. He thought of the wriggling blanket in the hut, the mother whose eyes were open wide with agony, the screaming that killed him. All this time, he’d thought that he was the one who had rescued her from starvation and neglect and poverty. But if he hadn’t had her after Dave... after Dave... after Dave _died_ , who knows what he would have done?  
“Yeah,” Klaus said airily, “She did. Diego’s, too.”  
She had allowed both of them to see what was really important in life. She had given them something to focus on and prioritize, something to come first. 

Ben nodded and stood up, heading toward the staircase. “I wish I could be there with you. I wish I could hold her. I wish I could thank her for protecting you.” Tears welled up in Klaus’ eyes.  
“Just tell her that her Uncle Ben loves her, okay?”  
Ben gave Klaus one last solemn look and disappeared behind the doorframe; just like that, he was gone. 

Ghosts, Klaus had noticed, had a habit of coming and going as they pleased, and Ben was no exception. Still, his chest ached with an unbearable longing, almost like an addiction, but stronger. He needed to go see his daughter right now. Today wasn’t the day he was meant to see Dave again. He needed to go be with Cam and Diego.  
He wriggled in the chair, attempting to break free of the ropes.  
“Diego!” he called desperately, “Come let me out!” No response. “Diego!”  
Klaus began to panic. He could feel his heart fluttering in his rib cage, knocking on the inside of his ribs. He was now writhing like a psych patient in a straitjacket, kicking his feet and flexing every muscle in his body. It was useless— Diego was always the best of the Academy when it came to apprehending villains, and his knots were about as strong as a steel beam. Klaus kicked the leg of the chair in frustration. To his surprise, the unstable leg released a monstrous _crack_ and the bottom half of it soared across the room, clattering to the ground against a wall. Klaus was sent plummeting about a foot and a half towards the floor, and, with his arms tied to his sides, his face received most of the damage. 

Klaus’ eyes opened— he didn’t even realize that he’d closed them, but they had instinctually snapped shut as he fell— to gaze upon a pair of muddy brown combat boots. He glanced upward to behold a tall, muscled figure with sandy brown hair and ice-blue eyes. He wore an army-green t-shirt and fatigues, and brownish-red dried blood was caked around a hole in his chest. He smiled with his movie-star teeth. _Dave_. Klaus felt a grin spread across his face.  
“I did it,” he whispered, “I did it!”

Dave bent down to look at Klaus.  
“What have you done this time?” he asked. That warm, joyful voice. Klaus couldn’t help himself. He began to weep again.  
Dave took a Swiss-Army Knife from his pocket.  
“Don’t,” sniffled Klaus through his tears. “It won’t work.” But Dave had already begun to cut the rope, and Klaus began to feel the tension around his biceps relax. Klaus gasped. He was doing this. He was strong enough to allow a dead person to have access to the physical world. 

The rope fell around Klaus ankles. He drew himself to his feet, staring deep into Dave’s eyes for the first time in months. Abruptly, he rushed forward, pressing his lips to Dave’s. They were cold, but Klaus didn’t care; he ran his fingers through his hair, grazing the back of his neck as Dave’s arms wrapped around his waist. Dave pulled away. “I missed you,” he said gently.  
Klaus hadn’t stopped crying. “I missed you too,” he sobbed.  
“Don’t cry,”  
“I’m not.”  
“Yes you are,” Dave wiped a tear from Klaus’ cheek.  
“I missed you. I miss you.”  
“I miss you too, but you know I’m always here. I promised I would be.” Dave put his hand on Klaus’ cheek.  
“I know. I know.”  
“How’s Cam?”  
Klaus smiled. “She’s good. I think she misses you too. But my brother, Diego, he’s helping me take care of her.”  
“Is she here?”  
“She’s with him. Maybe soon you can see her.”  
Now it was Dave’s turn to cry. “I miss her so much. God, I’m so sorry.”  
“Why are you sorry?”  
“Because,” Dave sniffled, “I went and got myself killed, and I left you and Cam all alone.”  
“We’re not alone. We have my brothers and sisters. We have you still, just like you said.”  
Dave smiled, holding Klaus tight to his chest. “Promise you’ll give her a kiss from her dad. Tell her I love her and miss her so, so much.”  
“I will,” Klaus whispered, his bottom lip trembling, “I promise.”  
“I love you.”  
“I love you, too.”  
Klaus laid his head on Dave’s shoulder, and from the window, they watched the sun set: the sky turned gold, then pink, then purple, then black.


	11. XI

“Thank you all for coming to this family meeting,” Klaus said, extending his arms in a grand gesture to his siblings. The seven were finally together in the same room; it had taken an obnoxious amount of Klaus ringing Grace’s old dinner bell and many calls to Diego and Vanya’s homes to accomplish this feat. They hadn’t been in the same room since Dad had died exactly eight days ago.  
“I have something very important to tell you all.”  
“This had better be good,” grumbled Five, his teenage figure hunched over a cup of coffee. “If you woke me up with that godforsaken ringing over nothing...” 

“Oh, it is good, my dear brother,” Klaus grinned. “Check this out!” He gestured to the door dramatically as if he were a magician beckoning his assistant. Nothing appeared in the doorframe. Sighing, he poked his head into the hall.  
“Mom!”  
“Yes, Klaus?”  
“Could you bring in the surprise please?”  
“Sure thing, dear.”  
Grace strode into the kitchen, a broad smile decorating her delicate face and a cooing one-year-old baby cradled carefully in her arms. Klaus didn’t have to say anything. He simply reveled in the pure, unadulterated shock on four out of his six siblings faces. He honestly thought Luther’s eyes were going to bulge out of his head. Allison’s hands flew to her mouth, and Vanya looked as if she’d just had the air knocked out of her. Five’s coffee had spilled down the front of his shirt, and the mug was frozen on its way to his mouth. Diego, who reclined in his chair and whose arms were folded against his chest, shot Klaus a devious grin and a wink. Ben sat with his hands folded politely, a genuine smile of admiration lighting up his face. 

“K-Klaus...” Luther stuttered.  
Allison interrupted him. “Where did you get her?”  
Klaus took Cam from Grace, his green eyes sparkling with the endearing mischief he once had— the mischief he thought had died.  
“I did _not_ steal her, okay? I would just like to make that clear.” He sat in his chair at the head of the table. “After I was kidnapped—“  
“Wait, you were _kidnapped_?” Allison exclaimed.  
Klaus pressed his lips together in mocking frustration. “Yes, Allison. How kind of you to finally notice.” Allison flushed pink and glanced down at the table.  
“Anyway, after I escaped, I took the briefcase from Hazel and Cha-Cha because I thought there might be money in it, and—“  
“Woah, woah, woah. You opened the briefcase without knowing what was inside? Where did it take you? Or should I say _when_ did it take you?” Five leaned forward eagerly.  
“I’d tell you if you would stop interrupting me!”  
The Hargreeves siblings closed their mouths. Klaus took a deep breath in. He could do this.  
“I went to 1968 and fought in the Vietnam War.”  
The ends of Five’s mouth turned up maniacally. Klaus knew that look. He had to prepare himself for intensive questioning later.  
“And while I was there, I met someone...”  
_Blue eyes, sandy hair, gorgeous smile._  
“...whose name was Dave.”  
_Soft lips, pointed nose, gentle curls._  
“And we found this abandoned baby, and we named her Cam.”  
Tangled branches, dewy grass, ripe oranges.  
“But then,”  
_Bullets whizzing by. Sandbags. Mud. Blood. Screaming._  
“He was killed in combat.”  
Vanya’s head tilted in sympathy.  
“So I came back here. I didn’t know what to do at first. I had no idea how I would raise her on my own, but Diego and Ben helped me figure it out.”  
“Ben?” Luther interjected. “Like our brother Ben?”  
“Oh, right. Yes, that Ben. I’ve been speaking to him for a while now. Remember how I can do that? Talk to the dead, I mean.”  
Luther nodded slowly, still processing the boatload of information coming at him. 

“So, yeah. That’s where we are right now. I wanted to tell you because I thought you might like to meet your niece after all this time.”  
Allison shot out of her seat, pulling Klaus in for a tight hug before he could so much as blink. She put her hands on either side of his face.  
“If you ever need any advice, I’m right here, okay? I’ll do anything you need.”  
“Klaus, I’m proud of you for finally growing up and learning to be responsible,” said Luther. “I’ll help you too.”  
“I’d be happy to watch her if you need,” Vanya chimed in sheepishly. “I don’t know a lot about babies, but I could definitely try.”  
“Thank you guys, but actually,” Klaus glanced sidelong at Diego, “I know someone who already loves being on babysitting duty.”  
Diego twisted his bottom lip, but his eyes softened as they met Klaus’.  
Ben got up and stood behind his brother.  
“Good job,” he said.

As the sun began to sink behind the city, the Hargreeves family sat in the parlor. Diego held Cam, who had cried until he took her (much to his chagrin since Luther was present). He bounced her on his lap as she giggled. Each of the siblings had a turn to hold her and even Five, who had initially been repulsed by her “limited capabilities” as he had called them, had come to smile at her.  
“You’ve got a very nice daughter, Klaus,” Five had said, “She’s very... charming.”  
“Trust me, she gets her charm from her other dad,” Klaus responded.

He looked around at his siblings. They had been torn apart by their father, and now they were being reunited by his daughter. He smiled as the sunlight filtered through the stained glass, illuminating the room and casting it in a liquid gold. He looked at Cam in Diego’s lap; the small, smiling ball of light that had given him purpose and kept him alive these past months.  
_So lucky. So lucky. So lucky._


	12. XII

_Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you,_  
Klaus beamed, crouching down to take a photo of Cam in her high chair, a party hat crowning her head.  
 _Happy birthday dear Cam,_  
The one-year-old slammed her hands against the tray as she displayed a gap-toothed grin.  
 _Happy birthday to you!_   
The Hargreeves siblings cheered and clapped as Grace set down a small slice of chocolate birthday cake adorned with a rainbow candle in front of her granddaughter. Cam made a grab at the flame, but Klaus quickly blew it out before her hand reached the wick. 

It had been a sort of tradition that the Hargreeves were only served chocolate on their birthdays, and since they all shared one collective birthday, it was always a big event. Now, on June 14, it was Cam’s turn to partake. After all, she was officially a Hargreeves now; Vanya and Allison has helped Klaus fill out the paperwork and everything. She was now legally Cam Eudora Katz-Hargreeves.

After the cake had been demolished and the photographs taken and the tears shed (Diego had insisted he was fine with watery eyes), Klaus picked up his daughter and headed for the attic. The rest of the siblings knowingly gathered in the foyer and muttered among themselves, shifting from foot to foot, rolling and whispering like an anxious sea. Their combined anxiety, though, paled in comparison to Klaus’. Sure, he had been practicing for months now, and he’d had several conversations with his siblings about it, but what if it didn’t work? What if he failed? Even worse, what if he hurt Cam?

He sat on the deteriorating wood floor and closed his eyes, holding Cam in a sitting position on his lap. White sunlight shone in patches through the dirty window, exploding and dancing across the two of them. Cam, ever the optimist, giggled as her father’s hands radiated neon blue energy. Klaus pictured him: the sandy hair, those curls, the blue eyes, the broad smile. He pulled from every memory that he had. The evenings under the orange tree, the village raids, the gentle kisses, the blood spurting from his chest, the arm hanging listlessly off of the stretcher. All of it, the good and the tragic, pooled in his mind. His hands felt like they were on fire and the blood roared in his ears. He tentatively opened his eyes, and instantly his mouth curled into a beaming grin. 

The spirit before him cupped his hands over his mouth as Klaus clutched Cam to his chest. His sky-blue eyes shone with delight, noticeable even through the afterlife.

Klaus approached Dave slowly, though he wanted to leap into his arms just as he had a few months prior. He held out his hand; wordlessly, Dave did the same. Klaus squinted in anticipation, but felt a cool, soft finger graze his palm. He sighed with pure bliss and relief as he leaned in to kiss his lost boyfriend. It had worked. 

Dave, with one arm still around Klaus’ waist, gazed fondly down at the daughter he hadn’t seen in who-knows-how-long.   
“She’s so big,” he said, his voice cracking as he rubbed his eyes in a vain attempt to keep from crying. Klaus smiled. He didn’t have the words right now to express what he was feeling, and he wasn’t sure he ever would. Love was too small, pride too simple. He felt in that moment like he was as close to heaven as he was ever going to get. 

“Here.” Klaus said breathily, “Try and hold her.” He summoned up all the strength in his body and prayed to all the powers that be as he handed the babbling child over to Dave. He winced as her back touched Dave’s hands, expecting a wail of pain or a sudden drop to the floor. Instead, Cam grinned up at her fathers without a care in the world as Klaus and Dave began to fall apart.

“Look, Cammie,” Klaus said to his daughter, “Look who it is! It’s dad! It’s dad!”   
Cam studied her deceased father for a moment, then decisively proclaimed: “Dada.” 

At that very moment, the Earth could have exploded and no one in that attic would have cared. Klaus and Dave, both still holding on to each other, sunk to the ground in a heap of emotions.

“My baby girl,” Dave whispered through hiccups and strained breaths. He kissed her on the forehead. “My Cam. God, I missed you so much. I love you so much,” He began to cry harder, his body wracked with sobs. “I love you so much.”

Klaus had never seen Dave break down like this, and suddenly he couldn’t contain it anymore. He too started to sob uncontrollably. Upset by the apparent displeasure of her dads, Cam decided to join as well. Klaus wrapped his arms around Dave and Cam, his family, and the three of them sat on the floor of the attic and cried and held on to each other.


End file.
